Aria woke up with a pounding head, mascara smudged under her eyes, and a text from Gwen that simply read: OMG YOU AND ETHAN?!
She groaned, grabbing a pillow to smother herself.
The kiss.
God, the kiss.
She remembered every second of it — the feel of his hands on her waist, the way his lips claimed hers like a promise. And the worst part?
She wanted to do it again.
Over.
And over.
And maybe again for good measure.
Her phone buzzed.
Ethan: Coffee at our spot in 20? No excuses.
Aria stared at the message, heart doing somersaults. She should probably pretend it hadn't happened. Or blame the tequila. Or fake amnesia.
But instead, she texted back: Be there.
---
Twenty minutes later, she slipped into the tiny café two blocks from their office. Ethan was already there, two coffees in front of him and that infuriatingly smug smirk on his face.
"Morning, sunshine," he greeted.
"Shut up."
He slid a coffee across the table. "So. About last night."
"Nope," she said, taking a giant sip. "Not talking about it. It was tequila. And bad lighting. And Gwen's fault somehow."
Ethan chuckled, leaning back. "Funny. Didn't feel like tequila. Felt like you wanted me to kiss you months ago and finally caved."
Aria's cheeks burned. "I… didn't."
His brow arched. "Lane."
"Okay, maybe a little. But that doesn't mean anything's changing."
"Why not?"
"Because we work together. And you're insufferable. And I'm not one of those girls who sleeps with her —"
"You didn't sleep with me."
She cleared her throat. "Right. Well. Still."
Ethan just grinned. "You keep telling yourself that, princess."
Before she could throw her coffee at him, her phone buzzed again — this time from a coworker.
Cami: Girl, is it true you and Cole made out at a karaoke bar?? Office is losing its mind.
Aria groaned.
Ethan's phone lit up too, and he laughed.
"Let me guess," he said. "Cami?"
"I'm gonna kill Gwen."
"I think she live-streamed half the night to her Instagram."
"I hate everything."
He grinned, looking way too pleased with himself.
But then, just as Aria was contemplating faking her own death to escape the rumor mill, Ethan sobered.
"Look," he said, voice quieter. "I know it's messy. But I wasn't lying last night. I've never… felt like this before."
She glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability there.
"I don't know what we're doing, Lane," he admitted. "But I don't want to stop."
Aria's heart clenched.
And before she could chicken out, she grabbed a napkin and scribbled something on it, sliding it across the table.
A bet.
Loser buys dinner. Winner picks the place. First one to catch feelings loses.
Ethan read it, a slow grin spreading across his face.
"You're on."
They shook hands, and Aria knew — knew — she was already doomed...